Masch i6, 1901.] 
•^FOREST - AND^.STREAM; 
208 
and all hands joined in. I could not imagine why the 
Vaie'e man had choked off my poet when he seemed to be 
doing so well, and I puzzled my memory to discover' what 
could have been offensive in the unfinished verse; As 
well as I could recall, he seemed to have dropped the 
praise of the village by name and to be birsy with another 
theme, which involved the praise of the "sacred fish, the 
stone fish, the fish that leaped, the fish that broke tihe 
earth." I had been too long on the lookout for such 
things to pretend to take any notice of the incident at the 
time. The boat load would have lied me out of my 
face, and probably Tulifau would have had the effrontery 
to compose for mc as being his interrupted song one of 
much the same sound, but far different meaning. I gave 
the matter no marked attention, but I knew that there 
was some story aboiit the stone fish, and, as usual in^ such 
cases, I made up my mind to know all about it, all the' 
more particularly since it was an off season for the gun. 
My first application was to. Simcle, who was at' that 
time performing some of the duties of a major-domo, 
others of a professor of the Samoan language and litera- 
ture, and in general was imderstood to act as my tdking 
man and make all iny speeches for me. Simele was a 
mystery from first to'last. He used English quite well, 
thanks to the teaching of Mrs. Bell at the mission school. 
He wanted to save monej" and become a lawyer, and he did 
succeed in saving as much as $15 on several occasions, 
but he found that to be as high as he could -go, and he 
reclaimed his deposit and blew it in. He was not tattooed, 
and while he claimed that it was against his religion, his 
enemies had no hesitation in saying that he did not' have 
the sand to bear the pain of the operation. He had 
rehgious scruples against war, but it was said that he 
was afraid to fight. In this matter of the stone fish 
Simele said that he felt it contrary to his religion to talk 
about the idolatry of the heathen Samoans, now all hap- 
pily converted, and furthermore it was never safe to talk 
about the magic of the aitu in the place where they held 
sway. He gently but positivelj^ declined to yield up the 
story, but he made it clear that there was a story of a 
pretty powerful god or devil of the old times if it had 
the power to let Simele's heathenry appear through his 
smug veneer of Christianity. As a sop to my disapopint- 
ment, Simele was willing and ready to tell me once 
more the story of the swimming Siamese sisters of Samoa, 
of whom one found her name right off Safata Bay. That 
is the one story that seems to be free from danger to the 
teller; every Samoan seems willing and ready to tell 
about those girls on their long swim, and I felt as com- 
petent as Simele to tell that yarn. 
Tonga was more pliant. Tonga had been to the 
Chicago Fair, where she ornamented the Midway, and 
she had been on a tour of the United States with Barnum's 
circus, and had become a pronounced rationalist in all 
such matters. She would express her profound dis- ' 
belief in all the heathen powers and then slyly ask me if I 
did not think that there might still be something in them, 
at least for South Sea Islanders. In this instance Tonga 
was really ignorant ; she bad never heard of the stone fish ; 
she came from a distant part of the country and the story 
had never come to her. But Tonga had relatives here — I 
never found the place in Samoa where Tonga was not able 
to scare up some person in native authority and intro- 
duce him as "my lashe," which is her English for "my 
relation." So it was here. As being a relative, she in- 
troduced to the guest house in which we were stopping an 
old chief, one who had been the Te'o or the Tula of his 
younger days, but now was known as Mailei. It was 
altogether a very surreptitious narrative; the old man 
refused to tell his story in the presence of any Samoans 
but Tonga, and no person was to know that he had told 
the story or even that he had visited us. Tonga at- 
tended to the dispatch of all our party to a frolic in a 
neighboring village, and when the coast was clear insinu- 
ated Mailei into our house, which had no other light than 
that of the moon. Sitting close to us, yet in a shadow 
which prevented recognition of him by any chance passer, 
he told the stoi-y of the way the inner bay was formed 
and the part that was played in it by the holy fish, which 
is now the stone fish. Like ail Samoan stories, it is so 
filled with trivial and inconsequential details and frequent 
repetitions that it can be told better without following 
the old chief's own words. 
In the times close to the beginning of things, the cuttle- 
fish was the great power of all animal life. Because of his 
wisdom all other animals obeyed him, and those which 
disobeyed his orders soon learned^ to fear his power to 
punish. At that time, indeed, imtil the white men came 
to Samoa, the waters were filled with great sperm whales, 
which sometimes stranded on the reefs and yielded rich 
.store of teeth, and each tooth was worth the life of a man. 
Now there are no more whales in the Samoan sea; the 
white sailors have killed them all. But in the early 
time when this bay was made there was one whale that 
was larger than all other whales and stronger and more 
clever, and this whale set at defiance the orders and 
authority of the cuttlefish with scorn of a thing that 
lived in the crevices of the coral. But the cuttlefish is 
clever, even though he does not live in the coral. He got 
the shore birds to go up into the bush for him and bring 
down leaves of the nettle tree. These leaves the cuttle- 
fish sprinkled over the water where the whale was feeding, 
and he swallowed them with his food. Then he went wild 
'pain. You knoAV how if you but graze it in passing 
it is' as though you had been burned with a blazing bil- 
let from the fire. This feeding of the whale was done 
in the bay beyond there, for that bay was always full of 
feeding whales before the Papalangi came to kill them. In 
his agony the suffering whale ran his head ashore,, for 
some of the nettle also had stung his eyes and blinded 
him. Not being able to see his way, he made a mighty 
spring and leaped high into the air, as I used to see them 
do in play when I was a boy, and the whales were not 
then all dead. Not being able to direct himself by reason 
of his blindness, the whale, instead of falling back into the 
sea, fell on the land. How great a whale he was you may 
see by looking at our inner bay. That was his length and 
his girth, for it was there he fell on the dry land and broke 
it down beneath his weight. But the cuttlefish was not 
yet done with the whale; the punishment for disdbedience 
was not yet complete. When the cuttlefish saw that leap 
into the air and where the while fell, he and his brothers 
cut the shallow passage from Safata Bay into our'-bay and 
let the water flow in aroimd the stranded -fl/hale,- bilt 
they made the passage a shoal one to keep the whale a 
prisoner. And at the passage there were always fish on 
guard to prevent the things that whales eat from coming 
through. All that the whale had to eat was the grass 
and bananas and the cocoanuts that had grown on the 
land that he had broken in. Really, the whale starved 
there day after day, and as he starved he grew smaller 
and smaller, until from being larger than all whales, he 
became smaller than any. But every day when the 
cuttlefish demanded if he would submit and become 
obedient, the whale refused, and at last he died, and 
the cuttlefish, being unforgiving, turned him to stone. 
And now he lies at the bottom of this our bay, and 
through the water you can see the stone which is his 
body. But because he was once very powerful above' all 
other aninaals, that is why we do not like to speak about 
him here in Vaie'e, at least not since the missionaries in- 
troduced the "lotu" and taught us that it was wicked to 
think of our old gods since they were devils. ' 
Mallei's story can be confirmed in one particular. In 
the bottom of the inner bay there is a black rock which 
has about the size and shape of a sperm calf. That ! 
know, for Tonga paddled me out to the spot to which 
Mailei directed us, and there we saw for ourselves. 
Llewella Pierce Churchili.. 
In the Indian River Country. 
Indian River, Brevard County, Fla.— Several' years 
ago, when I first came to this place, I met Jim Hatten, 
and he bore fresh scars received in a battle with a 
panther and a mule, which I have always thought worthy 
of being recorded. There came in a new boarder to- 
day, and while it rained I had Jim tell him the incident, 
and while it is again fresh I will record it for you, in 
substance, the way he tells it. 
"There were three panthers," Jim says, "that had been 
prowling in my neighborhood, near the shore of Indian 
River. Their hunting range was between two big hum- 
mocks, about three miles apart, and as they cleaned up 
the wild pigs and deer about each, they Avould change 
their places. You remember old man Chancy, who was 
a scout in the Indian wars and the last war, who was 
always glad to get into some rough-and-tumble scr;ipe? 
liim and me at one time and another killed two of them 
and the third one seemed to go off, I thought, for good. 
One day Jim Robinson and his brother came to my 
house early in the morning and told me they saw panther 
tracks in the sand in the road just outside of my orange 
grove. I had an old hound and two young ones, and I 
saddled my mule, took my gun and dogs, and Robinson 
and me soon had the panther up. It run up the side of 
a hickory tree, and Robinson shot it dead in the scrub 
bushes. It was a whopping big one, and before we were 
to tie it on my mule behind me, I helped Robinson to 
shoulder it, to be carried into the road. Robinson kind 
of hung it around his neck, and I followed on my mule 
behind him. My mule was jist as gentle as a dog, and I 
had tied many a bloody old buck on her. I noticed the 
mule nosing the panther and laying back her ears, but I 
never thought anything of that. AH at once she began 
bellerin', and jumped on the panther, knocked Robinson 
down and throwed me over her head in a pile with the 
panther. Then she began to stomp and bite and paw 
us, all the time bellerin' as I had never heard a mule be- 
fore. Robinson was scared to death, and stood by like 
a stump. I told him to shoot her, but he was too bad 
scared, besides his gun, an old cap lock one, was in 
the pile with me and the fjanther. Finally Robinson got 
the mule off me some way, and you can see how my 
face and ears are scarred up. 1 soon sold that mule, and 
the skin of the panther was stuffed and set up on the 
pilot house of the Sweeny, a steamboat that used to run 
on Indian River. This happened about twelve years 
ago, and was the last panther ever killed around here." 
Did you ever see the Indian River? Do you not 
think it and the country around is a most beautiful 
spot of this earth? Just think, that in forty-eight hours 
you can leave behind in your city the bleak wintry winds 
and come here, where never a snow flake falls! 
The fragments of the orange trees, left from the un- 
precedented freezes of 1895, have sprung again into trees, 
bearing the famous Indian River oranges. This narrow 
peninsula one day gets the winds from the Atlantic, or, 
better say, the next hour they are swapped for the breezes 
of the Gulf. The}' tell us Ponce de Leon, in his "Island 
of Florida," hunted for the spring to preserve eternal 
youth. Was it the ozone from the Gulf Stream that 
aroused his imagination? If this stream can warm por- 
tions of this terrestrial globe, where the rays of the sun 
themselves are powerless, old Ponce was not far wrong 
if he hunted for its source. 
Wlien I came here about the first of January I brought 
my setter Dan with me. To avoid injury, I crated him 
and saw him once only en route. About the time I landed 
on the platform of my arrival station Dan burst through 
the door of his crate, and came bounding to the baby. 
He soon raised a quarrel with an old stump-tailed 
])ointer, who rolled off a greasy goods box where he, 
had been watching a side of bacon put there by the 
merchant to air. Dan, however, contented himself by 
rushing at and running over the old pointer; then, with- 
out inquiring into the character of the country, ran into 
scrulas and palmettos, got the scent of some doves, and 
finally dashed into a sharp knot on a pine log and split 
the siciu from his eye to his ear. Dogs, at least, have in- 
dividual traits not unlike men. Put some of either \vher- 
ever you may, and their courage and enthusiasrri are al- 
ways with them. No wonder the world admires these 
attributes. I will tell you something about Dan's ex- 
perience in Florida directly. 
Soon after my arrival my friend of many hunting 
forays and myself started out for a camping expedition. 
We didn't care where, for which ever way you turn your 
head here you find sunshine and fat pine, all that is 
needed for outdoor life. A native Floridian with his lit- 
tle trick mule to a wagon; our hunting ponies harnessed 
to another, both full of what a hunter can better im- 
agine was in them than I can write, composed our hunt- 
ing outfit, except a team of dogs made up of two deer- 
hounds — one a veteran old lady, before whose relentless 
trailing I have seen many a deer go doAvn, the other her 
son, an obstreperous, untrained creature — and setter 
Dan. . 
y ou know there is a kind of superstition or pride which 
a hunter has in not starting out with fresh meat,. We 
expected to supply our first meal with quail, and our 
horses' heads being turned toward Lake Winder on the 
St. Johns River, this point became our destination 
whereat to camp for the night. 
Our guide led us a near route through the prairie, 
which proved too wet for birds, and when camp was 
reached a supper of bacon was expected, when our guide 
told us not to worry, as the day before he had killed a 
wild pig and had brought half of it along. This was 
scarified, salted and peppered and spitted on palmetto 
sticks, and its dark complexion from close contact with 
fat pine coals did not prevent us from taking to our 
cots well satisfied with our supper. Our guide, who 
proved an excellent one, was then a stranger to us', and 
old Ida seeming rather dignified the next morning, we 
concluded to take both the hounds out. You know the 
best way to hunt deer here is on horseback, with a dog 
that does not "yelp," but which, while on the track, is 
careful, noiseless and slow. In this manner, if the deer 
are not hunted much, you may be led right up to their 
beds, and can shoot them when they rise — when they 
"rip," as it is called here. If the deer are up to this they 
are trailed imtil their lying place is supposed to be not 
far off, then you dismount and generally put a cord on 
the dog to prevent too much speed or possible loss in 
grass arid brush, and follow thence on foot. I have never 
seen this mode practiced elsewhere, and no one could 
make me believe it could be successfully done until I saw 
it with my own eyes. 
We had not gone far from our camp, when the trail of 
two deer was found and followed to a likely looking 
place for them to lie. We halted for a consultation, when 
presently we heard a crashing in the scnib clump in the 
pond, saw the water flying, then two white flags raised 
iri the sedge grass beyond — and the hunter knows what 
this means. 
The afternoon was spent by my friend and myself 
shooting quail. Dan started out with a long ranging 
gallop, feeling that he was in the brown sedge and 
blackjacks of historic old Appomattox, from whence 
I purchased him. His points were high-headed from 
wind scent, and as stylish as if he had found the close- 
lying Virginia partridge in the stubble. On our ap- 
proach to flush you ought to have seen his surprise — the 
birds had gone on. This was repeated time and again 
on the same covey, and he would pathetically look at me 
as much as to say, "Master, I am still a dog of veracity; 
these creeping things smell like partridges, but where 
and what are they, really?"" Finally they would rise, and 
then would come Dan's trouble in earnest — on the single 
birds. These half the time have to be literally run up. 
That evening Dan found a feeding covey among the 
circular clum.ps of low palmettos, between which was 
short grass. He pointed on first scent, then went to 
roading the running covey. Round and round for ten 
minutes at least they went and never a halt. Finally 
they went into a palmetto bunch, and then continued to 
run around, and Dan began to bark furiously, something 
I never heard him do at birds, and I remarked to my 
comrade that he must have run on a coon (of which there 
were a number about), and I stooped and looked under 
the fans in time to see Dan, who had grown tired of 
such foolishness, jump into the birds. Dan finally 
caught up with these tricks eft'ectually, as I will tell you 
directly. 
We now wanted to cross the St. Johns River, and sent 
our guide to discover some way to get over for a "light- 
er" to transport us. No one inhabits the vicinity we were 
in and our guide found the camp of an otter hunter after a 
long day's search in the swamp, and took him and 
brought us the lighter. From our camp to the lake was 
a drive of two miles through the prairie. Along the road 
was the single aristocratic palm, its body hoary with age 
and bleaching storms. Small clumps of these trees stood 
about, whereunder sjiaded the little wild cattle, running- 
like deer before our advent. The lowing of the cows for 
their startled calves was like the music of the bugle. On 
the shore of the lake was one high sand dune covered 
with live oaks, palms, magnolias and oleanders. There 
stood a large sweet berry tree, carved high up and all 
over with names and dates, but, unlike the sturdy timber 
of my native heath, this tree repelled these scars, and they 
stood out excrescences, looking exactly as if pasted on. 
and the oldest date I saw was 1889. 
Lake AVinder is about three miles wide, a pretty 
sheet of water, with bottom of white sand. We were 
poled across, the water at deepest being less than 10 feet. 
On the other side we emerged at once into the prairie, 
unlike any other prairie you ever saw. Really here nature 
seems to have grown tired of making peaks and moun- 
tains and thundering torrents, grown lazy, and tried its 
'prentice hand on landscape gardening. In this prairie 
are narrow strands of pine and palmetto, and the low 
saw palmetto in circle beds of from one hundred to three 
hundred feet around; some beds as high as your head,, 
others to your knee. Here Dan left the wagons and 
swung out windward, of which I was glad, for did you 
ever find it necessary to hunt for meat? Hungry camp- 
ers and their dogs must eat. So I put together my little 
bird gun and went out literally for meat. The Bible 
people of old may have had more quail, but we had 
enough for both men and dogs. They flew lazily and low. 
Here Dan got up to their ways. Finding them, he would 
point and hold till I came to him, then if they ran (as 
they nearly always did) he would road them, swing far 
around in front, getting them between me and him, and 
point, and if they failed to stop, he would disregard all 
his rtsual modes and jump on to them. What profes- 
sional trainer could have put this reasoning into Dan's 
brain? Whose whip would crack over such an intelli- 
gent creature? ' The camp that night conferred on him 
the degree of artium magister. 
We made two parties for the next day's deer hunt, my 
companion being our guide. Ida had followed for nearly 
an hour the tracks of a feeding doe and her 3'earling, 
when they were joined by a buck. Then there must have 
been some moonlight acorn dances by these three, as 
old Ida worked with all her skill to unravel the windings 
of . these nocturnal orgies. I am sure the smell of the old 
buck's track was more to her notion, for as I sat almost 
.. ..hopeless on my pony, watching her circling wider and 
wider, she trotted off and looked back as much as (d 
